If Poem by Rudyard Kipling - Poem Hunter If Poem by Rudyard Kipling - Poem Hunter If - Poem by Rudyard Kipling Autoplay next video If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream- -and not make dreams your master; If you can think- -and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:.

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on! ' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings- -nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And- -which is more- -you'll be a Man, my son!

british english - Understand Rudyard Kipling's poem If - English Language & Usage Stack Exchange Understand Rudyard Kipling's poem If I came across Rudyard Kipling's poem If, quoted below: If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your

 loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!” If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

I pretty much like it and I am trying to translate it. But I found some of the sentences difficult to understand. Maybe because English is not my native language or because I am not used to poetry. Anyway, here are my questions: How to understand "losing theirs and blaming it on you" in the first stanza? In particular, what do the pronouns "theirs" and "it" respectively stand for? Why do the first and the second stanzas end with colons? How to understand "Yours is the Earth" in the last stanza? What does "yours" stands for? In the third stanza, what does "To serve your turn long after they are gone" mean? Particularly what do "turn" and "they" respectively refer to? The "turn" in "pitch-and-toss" and "winnings"? Any help will be appreciated. EDIT: I'm half-tempted to suggest this should have an Indian-english tag. – user867 Sep 13 '13 at 2:29 I doubt the colons are correct. There are plenty of websites that quote the poem using semicolons not colons.

For example: poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15241 A year ago wikipedia has the colons and semicolons reversed compared to where they are now: en.wikipedia.org/w/… – dcaswell Sep 13 '13 at 3:46 @user867: Thanks, I have added the indian-english tag. – day Sep 13 '13 at 22:20 @user814064: Thanks. That is interesting to know. – day Sep 13 '13 at 22:22 1 The 1910 edition of Rewards and Fairies has semicolons. The 1915 edition of Rewards and Fairies has colons. Since semicolons make much more sense, I would guess the colons are a typo. – Peter Shor Mar 29 '14 at 0:13 up vote 17 down vote accepted How to understand "losing theirs and blaming it on you" in the first stanza? In particular, what do the pronouns "theirs" and "it" respectively stand for?

To "keep your head" means to remain calm, which is sometimes hard to do when the people around you ("about you") are in "panic mode." To remain calm in spite of their panic is therefore a virtue. The word theirs, then, means their heads, and the pronoun it is a substitute for the phrase "having lost their heads." Kipling is saying it is good to remain calm even when people are blaming their panic (i.e., it) on you. His psychological insight into human behavior is quite perceptive. Imagine a scenario in which only one person among many is calm while everyone else is in panic mode. Not comprehending why this lone person could possibly be calm, they attempt to get him to join them in their panic by saying, "Don't just stand there; do something!" When he fails to comply, they become suspicious of him and start blaming him for their panic. Why do the first and the second stanzas end with colons? One purpose of colons is to get the reader to stop, to pause for a moment and to anticipate what comes next. This is what Kipling is doing in part, I think.

Additionally, the two colons serve to unite the first three stanzas in a continuous flow, as it were. When you read the last line of the first two stanzas, each line leads naturally into the first lines of the second and third stanzas. Instead of the feeling of finality that comes after an average, typical declarative sentence, there is a feeling of continuity that connects stanza one to two, and two to three. Stanza three, on the other hand, has a feeling of finality and therefore does not need a colon. Not having access to Kipling's original manuscript, which I assume would have been written by hand (Kipling described himself as "irretrievably committed to the ink-pot"), I do not know for certain if Kipling used colons in stanzas one and two or not. To me, their inclusion makes sense. How to understand "Yours is the Earth" in the last stanza? What does "yours" stands for?

"Yours" means simply "belonging to you." Another saying which means essentially the same thing is, "The world is your oyster!" In other words, the world opens up for you, or to you, much as an oyster would, IF you exemplify the virtues the poem praises. How many virtues do you find in the poem? There are quite a few, to be sure. Kipling is saying simply, if you embody these virtues, the world will be more accepting of you and what you have to offer. Put differently, the world ("the Earth") is yours! Generally, this is true, too, since the world generally prefers virtuous people. Awesome. What language are you translating it to, and have you checked if it hasn't already been translated to that language? It's a well-known and famous poem, after all. That being said... "losing theirs" harks back to the first line, where you are keeping your head (i.e. "staying calm") and others are losing their heads (i.e. "panicking"). "Theirs" is a pronoun for "their heads", or in other words, they are losing their heads while you are keeping yours.

"It" is the act of their losing their heads that they are blaming on you, or at least, the situation that they are losing their heads over. I have no idea. Ask Kipling. Oh, wait, he's dead. Sorry! "Yours is the earth" is the same thing as saying "The earth is yours", but the latter doesn't fit the scansion, or Kipling wanted to use an uncommon (but still correct) word order for emphasis. Means that if you can do all that the poem says that you will be very successful in whatever you endeavor, be that in obtaining riches, power, or whatever it is might be your cherished goal. And, as Kipling said, you'd be a Man. Or Woman. A fully-actualized human being, in any event.

Edited to Add: "If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you," could be rendered non-poetically as If you can remain calm when everyone else around you are panicking and blaming the situation on you," Poems - If-- IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose

, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, ' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

If.... by Rudyard Kipling - Famous poems, famous poets. - All Poetry If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream — and not make dreams your master; If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:.

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And which is more: you'll be a Man, my son! © by owner.

provided at no charge for educational purposes More by Rudyard Kipling If By Rudyard Kipling, Famous Inspirational Poem Famous Inspirational Poem If By Rudyard Kipling Rudyard Kipling was an English poet who lived from 1865-1936. He also wrote many children's stories. The poem's line, "If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same," is written on the wall of the players' entrance at Wimbledon. Latest Shared Story A dentist read me this poem today. I must say I was very impressed with the writer. I found this poem to be knowledgeable and interesting. This poem seems to be for any gender as well as...

By Rudyard Kipling more Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:.

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

More About The Poem "If" and Rudyard Kipling Were you to write the biography of Rudyard Kipling as a graph, the first thing that would strike you would be the steep vertical zigzags. The chart would have to start on a high point: his birth in India to a loving set of parents. His childhood would continue for a short period along an upward slope in the wonderland where he was born, and then plunge dramatically at the age of six when he was sent to England for his education. His first five years in England were scarred by the terrible abuse that he endured there from his foster mother. His only break during that period was the holiday month of December, when he would head to London to stay with his motherâ€™s family. After that period he was transferred to a school in Devon where he shone, becoming the editor of the school paper and embarking on his path as a writer, becoming a major success. He was struck by misfortune once more when the bank where he kept his savings collapsed leaving him penniless. He moved to America and continued writing, publishing The Jungle Books together with much else.

He again he hit a low when he became embroiled in a fight with his brother-in-law which landed both in court and in local papers, forcing his move back to England. On a trip to America in 1899 his daughter Josephine died of pneumonia at the age of seven, leaving him heartbroken. The wheel continued to turn however, and in 1907 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his outstanding work. An avowed proponent of British involvement in World War One, he encouraged his son John to enlist. When he failed the physical, Kipling used his connections to get him in, only to watch him die in the battle for Loos leaving him awash in guilt. His life was one replete with trials and hardships, sorrows which one could never fault anyone for crumbling beneath but which time and time again he overcame. This poem, published three years after he won the Nobel Prize, encapsulates the lessons that he learned and that he considered to be the keys to his success. Part of it is engraved on the entrance to Wimbledon to remind players of what it is that makes a man.

Advertisement If— - Poems | Academy of American Poets Academy of American Poets The Academy of American Poets is the largest membership-based nonprofit organization fostering an appreciation for contemporary poetry and supporting American poets. For over three generations, the Academy has connected millions of people to great poetry through programs such as National Poetry Month, the largest literary celebration in the world; Poets.org, the Academy’s popular website; American Poets, a biannual literary journal; and an annual series of poetry readings and special events. Since its founding, the Academy has awarded more money to poets than any other organization. browse poems & poets sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox sign up Rock Me to Sleep by Elizabeth Akers Allen occasions poem About this Poem In a 1995 BBC opinion poll, "If—" was voted the United Kingdom's favorite poem.

During his lifetime, even Kipling started to resent the poem's popularity, saying it had been "anthologised to weariness." Rudyard Kipling , 1865 - 1936 If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word

 about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run— Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son!

This poem is in the public domain. This poem is in the public domain. Rudyard Kipling Joseph Rudyard Kipling is best known for his novels The Jungle Book, The Second Jungle Book, and Kim, and his most famous poem, " If — ". 'If'by Rudyard Kipling, famous inspirational poems and quotes if - rudyard kipling Rudyard Kipling's inspirational poem - 'If' Rudyard Kipling's (1865-1936) inspirational poem 'If' first appeared in his collection 'Rewards and Fairies' in 1909. The poem 'If' is inspirational, motivational, and a set of rules for 'grown-up' living. Kipling's 'If' contains mottos and maxims for life, and the poem is also a blueprint for personal integrity, behaviour and self-development. 'If' is perhaps even more relevant today than when Kipling wrote it, as an ethos and a personal philosophy. Lines from Kipling's 'If' appear over the player's entrance to Wimbledon's Centre Court - a poignant reflection of the poem's timeless and inspiring quality.

The beauty and elegance of 'If' contrasts starkly with Rudyard Kipling's largely tragic and unhappy life. He was starved of love and attention and sent away by his parents; beaten and abused by his foster mother; and a failure at a public school which sought to develop qualities that were completely alien to Kipling. In later life the deaths of two of his children also affected Kipling deeply. Rudyard Kipling achieved fame quickly, based initially on his first stories and poems written in India (he returned there after College), and his great popularity with the British public continued despite subsequent critical reaction to some of his more conservative work, and critical opinion in later years that his poetry was superficial and lacking in depth of meaning. Significantly, Kipling turned down many honours offered to him including a knighthood, Poet Laureate and the Order of Merit, but in 1907 he accepted the Nobel Prize for Literature. Kipling's wide popular appeal survives through other works, notably The Jungle Book (1894) the novel, Kim (1901), and Just So Stories (1902).

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them:

 "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) Kipling is said to have written the poem 'If' with Dr Leander Starr Jameson in mind, who led about five-hundred of his countrymen in a failed raid against the Boers, in southern Africa. The 'Jameson Raid' was later considered a major factor in starting the Boer War (1899-1902). And on a different subject, here's a remarkable demonstration of the power of your own brain , which makes unusual use of Rudyard Kipling's inspirational poem 'If'.

see also 'If', by Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is

 nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

The remarkable story behind Rudyard Kipling's 'If' - and the swashbuckling renegade who inspired it | Daily Mail Online The remarkable story behind Rudyard Kipling's 'If' - and the swashbuckling renegade who inspired it comments This week, Rudyard Kipling's If, that epic evocation of the British virtues of a 'stiff upper lip' and stoicism in the face of adversity, will once again be named as the nation's favourite poem. The choice will certainly reignite the debate about whether it is, in fact, a great poem - which T. S. Eliot insisted it was not, describing it instead as 'great verse' - or a 'good bad' poem, as Orwell called it. Indeed, when it was last acclaimed as our favourite 14 years ago, one newspaper dismissed it as 'jingoistic nonsense', while another praised it as 'unforgettable'. What is not in doubt is that Kipling's four eight-line stanzas of advice to his son, written in 1909, have inspired the nation for a century.

Empire-building: Kipling was inspired by a failed British raid against the Boers in 1895 Two of its most resonant lines, 'If you can meet with triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same', stand above the players' entrance to the Centre Court at Wimbledon. My own father gave a copy to me when I was ten and I carried it around in my wallet for the next 15 years. He felt it was the perfect advice for a son born at the end of the last world war, who could not know what triumphs and disasters lay ahead. But few of the thousands who have voted for If as their favourite poem (in a poll for radio station Classic FM) know the remarkable story that lies behind the lines published in Kipling's collection of short stories and poems, Rewards And Fairies, in 1910. For the unlikely truth is that they were composed by the Indian-born Kipling to celebrate the achievements of a man betrayed and imprisoned by the British Government - the Scots-born colonial adventurer Dr Leander Starr Jameson.

Although it may not seem so to the millions who can recite its famous first line ('If you can keep your head when all about you'), If is also a bitter condemnation of the British Government led by Lord Salisbury, and the duplicity of its Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain, for covertly supporting Dr Jameson's raid against the Boers in South Africa's Transvaal in 1896, only to condemn him when the raid failed. Kipling was a friend of Jameson and was introduced to him, so scholars believe, by another colonial friend and adventurer: Cecil Rhodes, the financier and statesman who extracted a vast fortune from Britain's burgeoning African empire by taking substantial stakes in both diamond and gold mines in southern Africa.

In Kipling's autobiography, Something Of Myself, published in 1937, the year after his death at the age of 70, he acknowledges the inspiration for If in a single reference: 'Among the verses in Rewards was one set called If - they were drawn from Jameson's character, and contained counsels of perfection most easy to give.' Enlarge But to explain the nature of Kipling's admiration for Jameson, we need to return to the veldt of southern Africa in the last years of the 19th century. What was to become South Africa was divided into two British colonies (the Cape Colony and Natal) and two Boer republics (the Orange Free State and Transvaal). Transvaal contained 30,000 white male voters, of Dutch descent, and 60,000 white male 'Uitlanders', primarily British expatriates, whom the Boers had disenfranchised from voting. Rhodes, then Prime Minister of the Cape Colony, wanted to encourage the disgruntled Uitlanders to rebel against the Transvaal government. He believed that if he sent a force of armed men to overrun Johannesburg, an uprising would follow.

By Christmas 1895, the force of 600 armed men was placed under the command of Rhodes's old friend, Dr Jameson. Back in Britain, British Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain, father of future Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, had encouraged Rhodes's plan. But when he heard the raid was to be launched, he panicked and changed his mind, remarking: 'If this succeeds, it will ruin me. I'm going up to London to crush it.' Chamberlain ordered the Governor General of the Cape Colony to condemn the 'Jameson Raid' and Rhodes for planning it. He also instructed every British worker in Transvaal not to support it. That was behind the scenes. On the Transvaal border, the impetuous Jameson was growing frustrated by the politicking between London and Cape Town, and decided to go ahead regardless. On December 29, 1895, he led his men across the Transvaal border, planning to race to Johannesburg in three days - but the raid failed, miserably.

The Boer government's troops tracked Jameson's force from the moment it crossed the border and attacked it in a series of minor skirmishes that cost the raiders vital supplies, horses and indeed the lives of a handful of men, until on the morning of January 2, Jameson was confronted by a major Boer force. After seeing the Boers kill 30 of his men, Jameson surrendered, and he and the surviving raiders were taken to jail in Pretoria. The raiders never reached Johannesburg and there was no uprising among the Uitlanders. Cecil Rhodes, left, in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) in 1896 The Boer government handed the prisoners, including Jameson, over to the London government for trial. A few days after the raid, the German Kaiser sent a telegram congratulating President Kruger's Transvaal government on its success in suppressing the uprising. When this was disclosed in the British Press, a storm of anti-German feeling was stirred and Jameson found himself lionised by London society. Fierce anti-Boer and anti-German feelings were inflamed, which soon became known as 'jingoism'.

Jameson was sentenced to 15 months for leading the raid, and the Transvaal government was paid almost £1million in compensation by the British South Africa Company. Cecil Rhodes was forced to step down as Prime Minister of the Cape Colony. Jameson never revealed the extent of the British Government's support for the raid. This has led a string of Kipling scholars to point out that the poem's lines 'If you can keep your head when all about you / Are losing theirs and blaming it on you' were designed specifically to pay tribute to the courage and dignity of Jameson's silence. Typical of his spirit, Jameson was not broken by his imprisonment. He decided to return to South Africa after his release and rose to become Prime Minister of the Cape Colony in 1904, leaving office before the creation of the Union of South Africa in 1910. His stoicism in the face of adversity and his determination not to be deterred from his task are reflected in the lines: 'If you can make a heap of all your winnings / And risk it at one turn of pitch and toss / And lose, and start again from your beginnings / And never breathe a word about your loss . .

.' As Kipling's biographer, Andrew Lycett, puts it: 'In a sense, the poem is a valedictory to Jameson, the politician.' All in all, an impressive hero for Kipling's son, John. 'If you can fill the unforgiving minute/ With sixty seconds' worth of distance run/ Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it/ And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!' But Kipling's anger at Jameson's treatment by the British establishment never abated. Even though the poet had become the first English-speaking recipient of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907, he refused a knighthood and the Order of Merit from the British Government and the King, just as he refused the posts of Poet Laureate and Companion of Honour. The tragedy was that Kipling's only son, Lieutenant John Kipling, was to die in World War I at the Battle of Loos in 1915, only a handful of years after his father's most famous poem first appeared. His body was never found. It was a shock from which Kipling never fully recovered.

But his son's spirit, as well as that of Leander Starr Jameson, lives on in the lines of the poem that continues to inspire millions. As Andrew Lycett told the Daily Mail: 'In these straitened times, the old-fashioned virtues of fortitude, responsibilities and resolution, as articulated in If, become ever more important.' Long may they remain so.

Poets' Corner - Rudyard Kipling - Selected Works IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master; If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same: If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when

 there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings -- nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling I WENT into a public 'ouse to get a pint o'beer, The publican 'e up an' sez, ``We serve no red-coats here.'' The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die, I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I: O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy, go away''; But it's ``Thank you, Mister Atkins,'' when the band begins to play, The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play, O it's ``Thank you, Mr. Atkins,'' when the band begins to play. I went into a theatre as sober as could be, They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me; They sent me to the gallery or round the music 'alls, But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy, wait outside''; But it's ``Special train for Atkins'' when the trooper's on the tide, The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide, O it's ``Special train for Atkins'' when the trooper's on the tide. Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap; An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit. Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Tommy how's yer soul?'' But it's ``Thin red line of 'eroes'' when the drums begin to roll, The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll, O it's ``Thin red line of 'eroes'' when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too, But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you; An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints: Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints; While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an ``Tommy, fall be'ind,'' But it's ``Please to walk in front, sir,'' when there's trouble in the wind, There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind, O it's ``Please to walk in front, sir,'' when there's trouble in the wind. You talk o' better food for us, an'schools, an' fires an' all: We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational. Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' ``Chuck him out, the brute!'' But it's ``Saviour of 'is country,'' when the guns begin to shoot; Yes it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please; But Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool--you bet that Tommy sees! Rudyard Kipling ``WHAT are the bugles blowin' for?'' said Files-on-Parade. ``To turn you out, to turn you out,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. ``What makes you look so white, so white?'' said Files-on-Parade. ``I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment's in 'ollow square--they're hangin' him to-day; They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. ``What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?'' said Files-on-Parade.

``It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. ``What makes that front-rank man fall down?'' says Files-on-Parade. ``A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round, They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground; An' e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound-- O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'! ``'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine,'' said Files-on-Parade. ``'E's sleepin' out an' far tonight,'' the Colour Sergeant said. ``I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times,'' said Files-on-Parade. ``E's drinkin bitter beer alone,'' the Colour-Sergeant said.

They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place, For 'e shot a comrade sleepin'--you must look 'im in the face; Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace, While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. ``What's that so black agin the sun?'' said Files-on-Parade. ``It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. ``What's that that whimpers over'ead?'' said Files-on-Parade. ``It's Danny's soul that's passin' now,'' the Colour-Sergeant said. For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play, The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away; Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer today, After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

Rudyard Kipling God of our fathers, known of old-- Lord of our far-flung battle line-- Beneath Whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! The tumult and the shouting dies; The captains and the kings depart: Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! Far-called, our navies melt away; On dune and headland sinks the fire: Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Ninevah and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget! If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe-- Such boasting as the Gentiles use Or lesser breeds without the Law-- Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard-- All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding, calls not Thee to guard-- For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy mercy on Thy people, Lord! Amen. THERE is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a pup and your money will buy Love unflinching that cannot lie-- Perfect passion and worship fed By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head. Nevertheless it is hardly fair To risk your heart for a dog to tear. When the fourteen years which Nature permits Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits, And the vet's unspoken prescription runs To lethal chambers or loaded guns, Then you will find--it's your own affair-- But...you've given your heart for a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will, With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!); When the spirit that answered your every mood Is gone--wherever it goes--for good, You will discover how much you care, And will give your heart for the dog to tear. We've sorrow enough in the natural way, When it comes to burying Christian clay. Our loves are not given, but only lent, At compound interest of cent per cent. Though it is not always the case, I believe, That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve: For, when debts are payable, right or wrong, A short-time loan is as bad as a long-- So why in Heaven (before we are there) Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear? Rudyard Kipling YOU may talk o' gin and beer When you're quartered safe out here, And you're sent to penny-fights and Aldershot it, But when it comes to slaughter, You will do your work on water, And you'll lick the bloomin' boots o' them that's got it.

Now in Injia's sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time, A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them blackfaced crew, The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din. It was "Din! Din! Din! You limpin' lump of brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi! Slippery hitherao, Water, get it! Panee lao, You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din!" The uniform 'e wore And rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind, For a piece o' twisty rag And a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment 'e could find. When the sweatin' troop-train lay In a sidin' through the day, When the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl, We shouted "Harry By!" Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped him 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all. It was "Din! Din! Din! You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?

You put some juldee in it Or I'll marrow you this minute If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!" 'E would dot and carry one Till the longest day was done, And 'e didn't seem to know the use of fear; If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin' nut 'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear. 'E would skip to our attack, With 'is mussick on 'is back, And watch us till the bugles made "Retire", And for all 'is dirty hide, 'E was white, clear white, inside When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire! It was "Din! Din! Din!" With the bullet kickin' dust spots on the green; When the cartridges ran out, You could hear the front lines shout, "Hi! Ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!" I shan't forget the night When I dropped be'ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should have been. I was chokin' mad with thirst, And the man that spied me first Was our good ol' grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.

'E lifted up my head, And 'e plugged me where I bled, And 'e gave me 'arf a pint o' water green; It was crawlin' and it stunk, But of all the drinks I've drunk, I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din. It was "Din! Din! Din! 'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through his spleen-- 'E's chawin up the ground, And 'e's kickin' all around, For Gawd's sake get the water, Gunga Din!" 'E carried me away To where a dooli lay, And a bullet came and drilled the beggar clean. 'E put me safe inside, And just before 'e died, "I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din. So I'll see 'im later on, In the place where 'e is gone, Where it's always double drill and no canteen; 'E'll be squattin' on the coals, Givin' drink to poor damned souls, And I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din! And it's "Din! Din!

Din!" You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din! Though I've belted you and flayed you, By the livin' God that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din! Rudyard Kipling And the stubble fields on either hand Where Sour and Avon run. There is no change in the patient land That has bred us every one. She should have passed in cloud and fire And saved us from this sin Of war--red war--'twixt child and sire, Household and kith and kin, In the heart of a sleepy Midland shire, With the harvest scarcely in. But there is no change as we meet at last On the brow-head or the plain, And the raw astonished ranks stand fast To slay or to be slain By the men they knew in the kindly past That shall never come again-- By the men they met at dance or chase, In the tavern or the hall, At the justice bench and the market place, At the cudgel play or brawl-- Of their own blood and speech and race, Comrades or neighbors all!

More bitter than death this day must prove Whichever way it go, For the brothers of the maids we love Make ready to lay low Their sisters' sweethearts, as we move Against our dearest foe. Thank Heaven! At last the trumpets peal Before our strength gives way. For King or for the Commonweal-- No matter which they say, The first dry rattle of new-drawn steel Changes the world today!

Question: 'If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you' is the first line of which piece of work by Rudyard Kipling?
Answer: IF